Preparations of a Crow
by THE WRITER 080
Summary: Takes place during Arkham City


**This is what I think Scarecrow has been doing during "Arkham City". Please not I changed a few things to mention the "Arkham Knight"**

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**MUSING OF A CROW**

Arkham City was burning, smitten by fire and death from the helicopters below. So far twenty precent of the population have perished and the head of this hell, the breaded devil they called Professor Hugo Strange relished in the useless, pathetic criminals demises. Soon, all of Gotham's underworld would be wiped out and he would be seen as a hero.

Or so, he thought...

In a old disclosed location somewhere within Gotham City

He breathed heavily as he fiddled with the syringe, being careful not to spill any of his precious toxin on the floor. To his relief, the syringe fitted onto the metal gauntlet. he smirked...well to the best of his ability without damaging his jaw. His smirk faded as he gazed into the mirror in front of the desk he sat at. Staring back was a figure nearly completely hidden in the shadows, shedding some light onto him. What he saw was a figure wearing a stitched brown leather long coat with stitches, equipped with canisters of a red toxin; his _precious _toxin. but the face...oh the face! The face-if one could call it that-was dead pale with stitches not unlike the ones on his coat, one eye blank, his jaw crudely held by four threads to his upper lip, exposing his teeth no matter if he was smiling or not. Two gas tank stuck out of his throat. He breathed again desperate to get some air that did not come from said tanks that replaced his lungs. He mentally sneered to himself.

He cursed Thomas Elliott for not using his surgical skills he was praised for to mend his face, he cursed that wretched crocodile for his attempt to feast as though he, the master of fear, was nothing more then a simple meal. He cursed Strange for robbing him his chance of revenge by dumping the beast in his most of all, he cursed no one but the Batman. It was all his fault. Had the "Dark Knight" have not followed him to the Asylum Sewers, he wouldn't be in this state, yet alone look at look like this! He sighed, calming himself down as he thought back to that night...

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_He remembered feelling nothing but pain, pain he never felt before. The water stung at his bleeding body as he pushed his arms forward in front of him, kicking towards the surface. Eventually, his glove incased hand reached out the water and clung to a crate drifting in the water for dear life as he gasped for air; his mask was lost in his struggle against Killer Croc. It wasn't until he reached dry land, as he clutched his bleeding side, that he saw the crate he held onto to was a crate full of Titan...the same "Titan" the Joker had talked so much about. He looked back at the asylum and hissed as a bat shaped aircraft flew past him to the city far away. So the bat lives, eh? No matter, no matter. He would pay. Oh yes, he would pay...he held the titan craft before retreating into the darkness. It could be useful in time..._

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And it was. He still kept it, locked away until he needed it. The formula was useful restoring him to health, though he made modifications to it, not that he would have told the Joker. Let the clown die...if the rumours were true and he actually was dying, with him out of the way, his plan would be much more easier.

Speaking of his plan...he took the gauntlet and placed it on his arm; it fit with a hissing found. He felt smug as he admired his newly modified glove, the syringes were not so large as the previous glove so they wouldn't be a easy target, but simple to use as always. With great difficulty, he heaved himself out his chair and walked towards his monitor, the leg brace on his right leg clicking with each step. He stopped and watched the image of the Batman using his grappling gadget to cling to a TYGER helicopter, unaware of the pilot monitoring his entire move.

He allowed himself a small chuckle. Neither Strange nor the Bat knew of the few soldiers he helped smuggle from Venezuela and pose as the professor's little army. All because of the "Arkham Knight'. He hoped the "knight" was watching this as well, so that when the time was right, Batman would not be a problem to his plans. He raised his syringe glove to the screen.

"You will pay for what you did to me..."

The bat glided away.

"Fear will tear Gotham to shreds."

The claws dragged themselves down the screen, a unearthly screech echoed throughout the old dark room as the monitor frizzled out, sparks falling from it.

"I will return, Batman!" Jonathan Crane (no, not Crane) the Scarecrow declared with a hiss.

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Wonder City exploded in a shower of fire.

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**I hope you enjoyed this. Please R and R :)**


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